


Storm

by becausenobreeches (crucibulis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucibulis/pseuds/becausenobreeches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adaar has a scare when he and Trevelyan run into a certain Ben-Hassrath on the Storm Coast.</p><p>(AU where Trevelyan is the Herald and Adaar is his companion/lover.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of ideas floating around in my head so I wrote them all down and then picked one to write by rolling a virtual dice. This is an AU where Adaar didn't quite make it to the conclave in time so he joined the Inquisition and befriended the Herald. And then they started sleeping together. Just to note, I made the Iron Bull the boogie man in this fic, because that's just how this Adaar would react to him I think, just irrationally petrified out of his mind, but I don't have anything against Bull. I love him, really.

“Ever hear of the Ben-Hassrath?”

Kaaras’s entire world froze. He didn’t move a single muscle, just stared at the Iron Bull and felt the feeling drift out of him like the rain falling meaninglessly into the sea. No. No, it couldn’t be. Not here. Not this far south.

Beside him, Trevelyan leaned his weight on his staff and tilted his head to the side, the Herald always good at acting interested in what people had to say, even when he wasn’t. “Can’t say I have,” Maxwell replied, then turned to look at him. “Kaaras?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead he used the moment of stillness to think of whether he could draw his own staff and cast a spell before the Iron Bull swung that huge axe of his. Except the Iron Bull wouldn't need to, because he had those unnecessarily huge horns. Kaaras decided he really hated this guy. “I learned of the Ben-Hassrath from my parents,” Kaaras said warily. “They are the enforcers of the Qunari. And the _spies,”_ he added in warning, to Max or the Iron Bull, either one.

“Yeah, that’s them,” the Iron Bull admitted. “Or, well. _Us.”_

Kaaras didn’t hear much else of what ‘The Iron Bull’ said, his head pounding with the instinct to fight or flee as Maxwell just _chatted away_ with the Qunari spy as if _everything_ was _perfectly fine!_ The Herald had truly never met a stranger it would seem. Though Max occasionally glanced over to Kaaras out of the corner of his eye, trying to read him even though Kaaras was doing his best not to let his fear show on his face.

“...Kaaras?” Max finally asked when he couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, and the Vashoth winced at the use of his name. There was a Ben-Hassrath right in front of him, and Maxwell had just used his _name. A Ben-Hassrath knew his name._ His consciousness roiled with dizziness like the nearby stormy waves.

“What do you want from us?” Kaaras demanded, still staring the Iron Bull down, hand hovering slightly behind his hip, ready to grab for his staff.

The Iron Bull chuckled lightheartedly, trying to diffuse the tension but all it did was make Kaaras’s skin crawl. “All I’m here for is information. The Qunari want to know if they need to launch an invasion to stop the whole damn world from falling apart. But my orders, for now, are just to observe and report.”

“Orders can change,” Kaaras sneered, to which the Iron Bull just shrugged casually and smirked.

Kaaras didn’t need to hear any more. Couldn’t let Max stand there and listen to those expertly spun _lies._ He grabbed Maxwell by the elbow and pulled him stumbling, dragging him far enough away from the Ben-Hassrath that the sounds of the rain and sea would hopefully mask their conversation.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Max fretted, as Kaaras grabbed him by the shoulders and positioned him so Max’s whole body was hidden behind Kaaras, and the Qunari wouldn’t be able to see either of their faces or read their lips.

Kaaras shook his head, darkly but minutely. “That guy is trouble. We need to get out of here.”

“Alright,” Maxwell said in a soothing tone.

“But don’t make a scene,” he pressed, leaning down so the human could hear him. “Don’t say too much, or give anything away,” he darted his eyes around, trying to think quickly of what his mother had told him. “A-Act like you’re playing Wicked Grace. Keep your face neutral. And don’t let him try to persuade you into _anything.”_

Max nodded and shrugged. “I can handle that.”

Kaaras made a frustrated noise, sensing that Maxwell wasn’t quite grasping the severity of the situation. “Did you hear the way he was twisting words? Basically threatening that if you don’t give him a foothold in the Inquisition, that the Qunari will _invade?_ He will say literally _anything_ to convince you. To earn your trust.”

The human’s brows shot up. “Oh, I didn’t even see it that way,” he breathed. “Alright, I’ll tell him no--”

 _“No don’t_ tell him no,” Kaaras whispered frantically, and Max’s brows raised even higher. “Just tell him… tell him we’ll think about it or something.”

“Okay,” Max nodded again, trying to appease him. “Kaaras, it’s going to be okay.”

 _“Seriously,_ let’s go before I haul you over my shoulder and carry you out of here,” Kaaras growled quietly. Max just chuckled, reached up to squeeze said shoulder and gave him a smile, which morphed into his ‘Herald of Andraste’ smile as he moved past Kaaras and over to where the Iron Bull was waiting.

* * *

 

“You _know…”_

Kaaras was kicked out of his trance, but didn’t look away from the spot in the tent he was trying to stare a hole into. The air outside was quiet, but a storm still raged in his mind, making it hard to think or even breathe.

He was sure that any minute the Iron Bull was going to come and attack their camp, come for him. If he let them catch him off guard, he’d be captured and sent back to Par Vollen in chains. He just kept focused on inhaling and exhaling, listening to the crisp stillness after the rain, as Maxwell put his report down on a crate by his bedroll and turned to face him.

“Somehow, you’re managing to be even quieter than usual,” Max pointed out.

He didn’t respond, just hugged his knees a little closer to himself and hunched down, ears drooping as he tried to make himself smaller.

He could feel the human’s eyes on him; Maxwell watched him quietly for a minute or so before he pulled himself off the floor and came over to Kaaras, nudging his knees down with his foot so he could straddle Kaaras’s waist. The Vashoth just looked up at him, watching as he settled in his lap, a familiar and comforting weight. A warm hand came to rest over his chest, and Maxwell frowned.

“Your heart’s beating so fast,” Max whispered, sliding his fingers over his neck to feel his pulse. His hands were so soft, and Kaaras closed his eyes and let himself be grounded by the touch, wrapping his arms around Maxwell to support him. “Is this about that Ben-Hassrath?”

His eyes drifted back open, brow furrowing as he met Max’s worried gaze. He fought to swallow away the tightness in his throat so he could answer. “He just seemed so… _normal._ I wouldn’t have even known if he hadn’t told us.”

Max concurred with a lift of one eyebrow. “Which makes me wonder why he did.”

“Dunno,” Kaaras croaked, shaking his head, not looking at Max anymore but through him, somewhere past his chest. “But I have such a bad feeling about it. He knows my name. He knows what I _look like,”_ he rasped.

Above him Maxwell’s face practically crumpled with painful concern, as he squeezed at Kaaras’s shoulders, a silent plea for calm or peace or understanding. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this emotional about _anything.”_

Kaaras grunted. It was true; he was fighting his muscles to keep from shaking. He wondered if perhaps he was more scared of the Iron Bull than he was of the hole in the sky. “My mother was terrified of Ben-Hassrath,” he explained. “Maybe my dad was too, but... he just didn’t talk about anything that happened, _before.”_ Maxwell nodded slightly and so Kaaras gave himself permission to take a deep breath and continue. “I guess you’d have to meet my mom to understand. She wasn’t scared of anything. Though I was kind of scared of _her.”_

Maxwell chuckled softly above him, still massaging his fingers into Kaaras’s back. “That’s not just a Vashoth thing, believe me,” he interjected with that bright smile of his.

Kaaras gave him a shy smirk in return. “She was very vocal about how messed up the Qun had been, and how important it was to have personal choice and freedom... but when it came to the re-educators, she wouldn’t even tell me what they had done to her,” he said, voice trembling at the memory of that cold and distant look on his mother’s face, probably not unlike the way he looked at the present moment. “She just said if I ever came across a Ben-Hassrath, to kill them or to run far, far away--”

“Hey,” Maxwell grabbed the sides of his face with both hands, making Kaaras look at him, his eyes as stunning as the lightning he commanded with those deceptively soft hands. _“I will not let him have you,”_ he hissed. Thunder rolled far in the distance but neither of them paid it any heed, eyes locked on each other. “Alright? I would _die_ first,” Max promised.

Kaaras snorted. Since when was a human willing to die for an ‘ox-man’? But he wouldn’t insult the sincerity of Maxwell’s words with such doubt. “You barely know me,” he said instead.

Max leaned back, his expression melting into something softer, more unsure. “Well I _have_ grown rather attached to you over the last two months,” he chuckled, an almost wounded note to his voice. “But you’re a mage,” he shrugged. “Your struggle is not all that different from those of us running from Templars. I’m _with you_ on this. And not just because we’re sleeping together,” he added with a lopsided smirk.

Kaaras leaned forward and pressed his brow against Maxwell’s, accepting his promise and his intent, even if it seemed a bit silly for the smaller man to offer his protection. “Thank you,” he half-whispered, and Max lifted up and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Your ears seem to droop when you’re sad,” he mused. “It’s cute.”

Kaaras pursed his lips at that. “Are they drooping now?” he moped.

“No…” Max pondered. “They’re… you might say, _erect,”_ he said, then pressed his lips together, fighting a smile.

“I’ll show you erect,” Kaaras mumbled, feeling heat rise in his cheeks at the exchange.

“Sorry you’ll have to speak up,” Maxwell teased haughtily. “I can’t hear you over that blush on your face.”

Kaaras didn’t bother repeating himself, just grabbed Max’s shirt and pulled him down for a kiss, closing his eyes to focus on the soft warmth of his mouth and the softer sound of the rain.


End file.
